


Hail From The Dark Side

by hotspaceletsgo



Category: Muse (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Succubi & Incubi, Bottom!Chris, M/M, Porn With Plot, top!matt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:34:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23286355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotspaceletsgo/pseuds/hotspaceletsgo
Summary: Matt and Chris have an agreement. One night, Matt gets too hasty.
Relationships: Matt Bellamy/Chris Wolstenholme, implied Chris Wolstenholme/Dom Howard
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	Hail From The Dark Side

**Author's Note:**

> This is not a classic adaptation of the incubi universe. What you need to know is that Matt is an incubus, but the rest remains the same. 
> 
> Totally inappropriate in regards to what's happening in Chris' life right now. Congratulations, and I'm so feckin sorry!

_„So, what you’re saying is… I don’t even know what you’re saying, Matt.“  
  
The brown-haired singer sighed, but he knew what he was getting into. “The proposition is clear, no? I told you like five times already. Were you even listening?”  
  
“I know, Matt, I know what you said. I just…” Chris stopped pacing and sat down next to Matt. He put his head to his hands, his fingers probing though the mass of hair. “It’s a lot to take in. You could’ve just waited for our day off, not dump it on me right after the show.”  
  
The bassist threw his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes, easing his arms against his sides. Matt wiggled closer to Chris, feeling his clothed waist. The T-shirt was soaking in sweat and Matt could feel – and **see** – the protruding ribs under his fingers. “I need some anchored intimacy, Chris. If I could live another ten years without it, believe me I would, but…”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, I know. This whole-“ Chris made a vague gesture with his right hand, his lips a thin line, his eyes on the ceiling. “ **incubus** thing. Why couldn’t you just ask, I don’t know, Dom?”  
  
Chris heard a snort and a pair of thin arms circled his equally sweat-drowned arm. “Have you seen the way he looks at me? I don’t need a serious thing; I just want someone I can come to.”  
  
He recalled all the times the three of them were together and how Dom seemed to be occasionally stealing looks at the singer. He made a note to start looking at details more. “Well then, what about Tom?”  
  
Another sound came from his left side, this time it was a full-on laughter. “Nothing against Tom, he’s a cool bloke, but I have taste.”  
  
The remark made Chris exceptionally proud for god-knows-what reason.  
  
He opened his mouth to list another name, but nobody came to his mind. He sat there with his mouth open like a fish, trying to think of someone, **anyone** , who could get him out of his situation.  
  
Matthew was faster to answer. “But if you don’t want to, I can always turn to groupies. Nothing serious, see them one time and then it’s over, maybe contract some nice-sounding diseases and then-“  
  
“Okay, I fucking got it, yeah? I get you, Matt.” He felt one of the hands caress his bicep and then move to the neckline of his T-shirt. He gripped the hand in his own, electric blue eyes immediately locking with his own in alert. “What’s the catch here? With the whole agreement?”  
  
Matt smirked. “Nothing. I’ll get to make visits to you as often as I feel the need, and you’ll get your fix on tour, so your right hand doesn’t get tired. Plus, you’ll stop being bloody moody.”  
  
“ **I** am being moody?!” Chris said a bit louder than anticipated, and he realised that Matt was right. As always. “I **am** being moody… Jesus. The tour’s getting way out of my hands.”  
  
Matt stood up triumphally and towered over Chris, the sharp light of the hotel room chandelier illuminating his figure as if some kind of a mythical creature. “See? And that’s when I come.”  
  
Chris felt the heat rise to his cheeks and he looked down, finding his ordinary black socks more interesting than this talk.  
  
The singer leaned down, put his fingers under Chris’ bearded chin and made the bassist look him straight in the eyes, their faces inches apart. Matt could feel Chris’ hot breath on his lips, the distinctive smell of cigarettes invading his sensitive nose. “Nothing can go wrong, Chris. There are some risks, I don’t know, like you not being able to stomach all of this. Or that if I accidentally bite you, I’ll mark you as mine. But I promise you that none of this will happen. We both just need to try it, see if it goes arse over tits or not, and if it works out, we’ll be both letting off some steam.”  
  
Chris realised that Matt was serious about this with the softness of his voice which was barely ever heard. He nodded, seeing that he could get used to it, too. “The thing about biting… If you bite me, what happens again?”  
  
Matt slowly sat on Chris’ thigs, not caring about the uncomfortable feeling of sweaty jeans against his own. He’d be getting those off soon anyway. “Never let me bite you. I’ll try not to make it happen, but if I bite you, not only it leaves a nasty mark, but you become… mine. You become my personal fuck toy, you will belong to me and me only.” Chris winced at Matt’s harsh words. “But I won’t let that happen. I don’t want to ruin neither of our lives, so I’ll be careful.”  
  
Chris weighted all of these outcomes with his current situation and he imagined how it all could end.  
  
They were friends after all, it couldn’t be so bad, could it? Matt’s words were assuring enough that he finally gave in, after dreadful ten minutes of pondering.  
  
He nodded in Matt’s direction and after a subtle smile playing on Matt’s lips, he was met with a ferocious kiss.  
  
_•~  
  
It was another great show. Matt, Dom and Chris worked as a perfect unit, giving out their all and even more and that caused the crowd to go wild and have some serious good time.  
  
Dom and Chris occasionally exchanged a word, while Matt had his solo in front of the insane amount of people, but it wasn’t anything serious. Sentences like: “Enjoying the show?” and “Let’s do this!” were thrown from side to side, and it hyped them both like nothing else.  
  
But then _Interlude_ came around and Chris knew what words were about to be exchanged.  
  
The platform stage was reserved for Matt’s shenanigans for when he wanted to run around with his guitar, and the normal stage wasn’t big enough. But they decided to use it for their interactions, he didn’t even know how it happened. One night, when they had been told to run back to the bus immediately after the show finished, Matt was afraid there wouldn’t be enough time to arrange another one of their meetings, so he had unexpectedly joined Chris at the front stage and under the premise of telling him something funny, he had leaned in and whispered: “I’ll dash for the toilet on the bus, meet me there after. Pretend I told you a joke or something.” Chris knew better than to give away their disguise, and with a bright smile he had shook his head, turning away to continue.  
  
That night, Chris had blown Matt in the bus’s loo and later, when they were sure everyone drifted off to sleep, the singer had ridden him until he was sure he was going to pass out.  
  
It became a ritual after an eventful night like this. They’d go to the middle of the stage, Matt would whisper either the time he was going to show up at Chris’ door, or what he would do to Chris that night, and then he’d back off with a wide smile, as if two friends were just messing about.  
  
 _Right in front of everyone’s eyes._  
  
“You and Dom seem to enjoy yourselves,” Matt whispered. “Wait ‘til _I_ get to you.” Matt left the front stage and Chris was once again alone, but Matt’s words lingering in his mind.  
  
He started to finger the bass strings for _Hysteria_ like never before.  
  
•~  
  
Chris was just about to put on a clean shirt, but he stopped his movements when he heard a set of knocks at his door. One loud, two silent, one loud, three silent knocks. That’s definitely Matt.  
  
He smirked and put on the shirt, knowing that it would only irritate the singer. They played these little games to annoy each other, but in the end it all ended the same.  
  
Looking at the clock at the wall he noticed Matt was a bit sooner than usual. It took about two hours for Matt to come around Chris’ hotel room, and that left Chris time to take a shower, get something to eat and relax a bit. Sometimes he even got around to prepare himself for Matt, but that was only after a particularly good show, or when they didn’t get to meet each other for three or four days.  
  
Matt was there only half an hour later after they played the teasingly brilliant show.  
  
He opened the door, revealing the singer who was still dressed in his stage clothes.  
  
“A bit early, aren’t y-“  
  
Matt gripped Chris’ shirt and pushed him back to his hotel room. He kicked the door closed with an unusual display of power, the door crashing behind them, and he pinned Chris to the nearest wall, attacking his mouth viciously. Chris wanted to object, wanted to say something when his spine hit the light switch, his back cursing him for the sharp contact, but Matt gave him no chance, his tongue making its way beyond Chris’ chapped lips.  
  
The taller man groaned, accepting the dominating muscle, his hands tangling in Matt’s hair, pulling slightly. As much as Chris didn’t like being dominated, Matt’s fury intrigued him, and always, _every god damned time_ , he let the singer hold him down and fuck him mercilessly.  
  
That night, Matt seemed far greedier than ever. If it was the show that turned him on, which was highly possible since he enjoyed playing way more than any normal person, or there was something else, but Chris hardly cared. Not when there was a controlling tongue being shoved far into his throat and callused hands were pulling at his short hair.  
  
Matt reeked of sweat and Chris could definitely smell the cologne the signer apparently bathed in in order to mask the odour. It didn’t help at all; it only increased the humidity of the room. Not like Chris minded. It was these details that made each of their encounters different and if it helped Matt get off, then he had nothing to say.  
  
He felt his body react to the scent, his groin rubbing against Matt’s hip unconsciously. Thank god Matt didn’t take a shower then.  
  
The singer pulled at Chris’ hair swiftly, making his head sweep back, and he attacked Chris’ neck. When their thing was just starting to set off, they were careful with Matt’s mouth anywhere near his body. Kisses were okay, Matt licking all over his muscles was okay, but both of them had been afraid of _that thing_ happening.  
  
They stopped caring probably after the second time Matt went down on Chris. Matt had no problem controlling himself, unlike Chris, and everything had always gone without biting, even though Chris sometimes felt it would speed things up.  
  
The wet tongue licked along Chris’ hairline down to the side of his neck and stopped at the hem of his shirt, lapping at the collar bones. One hand holding Chris’ head back, exposing the slightly darker skin, the other playing with the bottom hem of Chris’ shirt, until it gave up on teasing and slid under the fabric, starting to stroke along the skin of Chris’ stomach.  
  
“Fucking finally,” Matt growled against the sensitive skin and traced his knee alongside of Chris inner thighs, Chris’ legs giving up control and parting to let Matt feel him. “Was waiting way too long tonight.”  
  
“You-“ Chris swallowed as the hand underneath his shirt crept higher. “The show finished barely an hour ago.”  
  
“Long time,” Matt grinned, and his thumb grazed over one of Chris’ nipples. “Couldn’t keep you off my mind.”  
  
“And still can’t,” Chris breathed out heavily, head thrown backwards, eyes closed in pleasure.  
  
Matt laughed and nodded. He leaned back down, kissed Chris’ mouth fiercely and led them both deeper into Chris’ room, even though he didn’t know where the bed was. It didn’t matter as the bassist understood Matt’s intentions and took the initiative, pushing Matt towards the bedroom, his lips never leaving Matthew’s.  
  
Chris’ legs collided with the frame of the bed and Matt didn’t waste a minute to throw Chris backwards onto the mattress, Chris’ grip on his shoulders causing him to fall down as well, Chris’ strong body easing his landing.  
  
As soon as they were both laying on a solid surface, Matt knelt on either side of Chris’ waist and took off his shirt.  
  
“I want you,” Chris growled and extended his arms towards the graceful figure, his fingers skimming over the symbol on his chest.  
  
 _MJB  
  
_ Chris often wondered if it hurt, but he always dismissed the question. He didn’t want to know any more information about Matt being an incubus. What he knew was already enough.  
  
Matt eased down, his own hands drawn to the strong neck the bassist possessed. “Take off the fucking shirt.”  
  
Chris refused to move, still admiring the body above him.  
  
“Cocky tonight, are you?” Matt snarled. “I’ll show you.”  
  
His demeanour changed in the matter of seconds, going from playful to animalistic, as he bunched his fists into Chris’ tight shirt and almost tore it as he pulled it over Chris’ head.  
  
The impatience was visible in Matt’s behaviour. He threw the shirt carelessly behind him and soon Chris’ trousers followed along with his underwear.  
  
“Do you like it, being the bottom bitch?”  
  
Chris snorted at Matt’s attempt to being dominant, but he played along. “’Course I do. That is if you can handle me.”  
  
The bassist laughed mentally as Matt attacked his mouth once again, delving deep inside, not giving him a chance to protest.

Matthew’s fingers took Chris’ and led them lower along his body to his trousers and underwear, the younger helping Matt out of the offending piece of clothing. Matt kicked them down, abandoning them somewhere on the bed.  
  
Hands roamed around the skin restlessly, every inch begging to be touched and inspected by the other, kissed, caressed, taken care of, but both knew that no tender love-making could suffice for the hunger that burnt inside of their chests.  
  
Chris settled his sweaty palms on Matt’s shoulders as Matt aligned with Chris’ body, gazing at him from under long lashes. He was anxious to finally feel the heat of Chris’ body around him, and with no preparation he pushed half-way inside. Instantly he heard Chris gasp, the grip on his shoulders tightening, and his eyes close in intense pain.  
  
Matt never liked hurting Chris. It didn’t feel fair and guilt always came immediately after they were done, when seeing Chris stand up with a great difficulty. But he couldn’t hold back any longer, and he sensed that Chris was on the same page.  
  
The bassist’s dick was standing tall, pre already leaking, and ‘ _what was a little pain compared to the pleasure that came shortly?’_ Matt consoled himself with these words before swallowing, pushing further in. Chris inhaled sharply, all expletives he wanted to shout at Matt dying on his tongue, as he tried to adjust to his size. Matt had something different in mind.  
  
He didn’t wait for Chris to get used to him, sliding all the way in, and Chris’ eyes shot open, boring into Matt’s stormy ones.  
  
They had a silent conversation, communicating only with their gazes, as Matt started moving back and forth. Finally, after an eventful night that lasted way too long before he came around Chris’ room, he was here, taking what he believed belonged to him, and he was absolutely sure that he could come right here and there with only the sheer pressure of Chris’ body pressing on him if his mind was focused. He was _that_ turned on.  
  
Matt started moving his hips in a circular motion, driving deep at a different angle. Chris felt the change, the pain soon turning into pleasure as Matt hit the right spot. It felt so relieving, finally be able to let his inhibitions go and just revel in the feeling of being filled.  
  
Chris hooked his hand around Matt’s neck, brought their lips together and started leaving shallow kisses, just the barest hint of tongue. He was good at these little affectionate things that gave the whole rendezvous a feeling of domesticity, and Matt had nothing against that. It actually helped him, he was aware that what they were doing was only sex and nothing else, but moments like this reminded him of some form of a relationship between them.  
  
That was never going to happen, but he still was grateful for Chris’ sweet inputs.  
  
Matt sped up his movements, the knot in his stomach starting to untangle, and it was only a matter of a few thrusts before Matt grinned into the kisses and came inside Chris with a wild cry.  
  
He thrusted back into Chris to ride the last waves of his orgasm, his cock softening, but the bliss still present. Looking at Chris, he saw that he was close too.  
  
“Want me to tease you a bit?” he hummed and pulled back, so that only his knobhead remained inside. He whispered a trail of scattered touches down to Chris’ abdomen, tangling his fingers in the sparse hair covering his groin.  
  
As an answer Chris whined and jerked his hips upwards. Matt decided to be merciful. As he crept down to latch onto the bassist’s shaft, Matt felt Chris’ breathing quicken, the skin glowing with arousal, and he tugged at the head and slowly moving his fingers up and down, until he heard a constant murmur from Chris’ throat emit at the smallest touch. He sped his motions and started moving back inside Chris at the same time.  
  
The face Chris pulled when Matt filled him again and tightened his fingers around Chris’ dick mirrored of a complete submission and pleasure.  
  
Matt wanked him off, his hand moving hastily, so he could see Chris finally doubling over and come.  
  
He loved to watch him lose control. It was such a contrast to the father figure everyone saw Chris as, laying under the smaller guitarist, begging to jerk him off, so he could finally fucking come.  
  
Such a symphony to his ears.  
  
The agonising knife edge Chris had been sitting on for too long finally broke and he let out a loud groan as he came all over his and Matt's stomachs. He tried to push back the painful pounding of Matt's hips into his own, sure of the bruises that were going to form and wouldn't disappear till the next show.  
  
He laid still for a few seconds, head thrown in the pillow, eyes closed, his hands above his head, waiting for Matt to do the deed of pulling out of him. Matt enjoyed the tightness and warmth of Chris' body, but he knew he'd enjoy it even more while cuddling the bigger man, and eventually he held onto Chris' shoulders and slowly, as if he wanted to tease Chris's walls into arousal again, he retracted and fell next to the bassist, draping a relaxed arm over his chest.  
  
They rested next to each other in silence, Chris' heavy breaths the only thing heard in the room, until he opened his eyes and turned to Matt, his mouth in a slight smile coated in saliva. "That-that was... wow. Um, amazing."  
  
Matt winked at him. "I've been told."  
  
"Just over a hundred times by me, yeah?" Chris joked, turning on his side to face Matt.  
  
"And I enjoyed every single one." Matt put a hand behind Chris' neck and kissed him. "I'm actually better when things go fast. Slow doesn't go well with me."  
  
"Slow can be fun. It's... uh, sensual? I like when things go slow."  
  
Of-fucking-course you do, Matt thought and mentally rolled his eyes. An idea arose in his mind.  
  
He started tracing vague shapes on Chris' bare stomach. "What do you think the others are doing right now?"  
  
"Don't know. Why should I care anyway?"  
  
Matt shrugged. “Just a thought. I saw how you and Dom had an eye-fucking contest in the middle of the show tonight.”  
  
Chris didn’t say anything for a while, letting his mind run to the gig they played. When he recalled how he threw a few furtive looks in Dom’s direction, all while playing his heart, he had to laugh. “You mean during the metal medley when I asked him if he was enjoying the show? Don’t be ridiculous, Matt. We do that practically every show.”  
  
Matt huffed next to him. “Hey, don’t act all surprised after what I did to you a few minutes before.”  
  
“Are you jealous? Is the almighty Matt Bellamy, the one who could get anyone with a snap of fingers, jealous?”  
  
“I’m not jealous!” he snapped back to Chris’ amusement. When the laughter died out, they settled back into the cushions, Matt moving his hand on Chris’ stomach again. “I was just thinking…”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“About you going to the after party with him, Tom and the others.”  
  
Chris barely looked at him, groaning. “You know I’m not into that. I mean, I’m not a bloody saint and would touch a bottle or two, but I doubt that Dom would stay with that. You know him.” He sighed deeply. “Besides, he’d disappear after like five minutes of us being there.”  
  
“Nah, he was pretty down-to-Earth tonight. He’d spend it talking to you, I think.”  
  
“Pretty boring for a party he wanted to get pissed up at.”  
  
Matt cursed mentally at Chris’ defensive behaviour. “It would be only him doing the talking, you know that. After a few drinks he’s like an unstoppable train.”  
  
“You’re pretty much describing yourself right now,” Chris snorted, but slowly put his hand over Matt’s on his stomach, following the patterns.  
  
“…okay, maybe. But I’d probably not drink at all and ended up wanking in my hotel room if you went out with Dom. You and Dom would be deep into an interesting conversation about the show and the medley you did at the end.”  
  
“Probably. But I think he’d end up flirting with some bird at a bar.”  
  
Matt giggled. “What if he started flirting with you?”  
  
“What?” Chris reacted, coughing uncomfortably.  
  
“If I stayed here and there wouldn’t be any girls worth talking to, you’d be pretty much an obvious choice for Dom.”  
  
“I-I mean, I guess…?”  
  
The singer moved dangerously close to Chris’ ear and the hand at his stomach started moving lower. “Totally. The party would be loud and there would be a lot of people, so he'd have to lean close if he wanted to tell you something. Just like I’m doing now.”  
  
Chris shuddered as Matt’s lips touched his ear.  
  
When Matt got the reaction he wanted, he continued. “He’d point at people and tell you if they’re worth a shag, and you’d laugh because he'd point at Tom and tell you how much he wouldn’t wanna get anywhere near his shaft.”  
  
Chris giggled at that thought. That definitely sounded like something Dom would say.  
  
Matt wasn’t clearly done with his fantasy. “But then he’d jab a finger in your chest and lean so close to your face you’d feel his hot breath on your nose. You’d be nervous, but also curious about his opinion.”  
  
Matt edged to Chris’ cock and rubbed it shortly, leaving the arousal to Chris’ imagination for a bit. He moved on top of him and as if he were in the fantasy he made up, he leaned close to Chris’ face, their noses touching. “He’d take a gulp of his drink and say you’re the best catch in the room.”  
  
Chris closed his eyes, his mouth cracking open a bit, his breathing starting to get uneven. “R-really?” he asked, indulging in the daydream.  
  
“Totally, he’d say because you’re big and strong and good-looking... And he’d tease your chest with his finger, moving from side to side.” Matt put his finger on Chris’ chest and repeated his words with his own finger, light touches on his sternum slowly moving to his nipple.  
  
“You’d look up, confused, but flustered that Dom thinks this about you. And as he’d see your look, he’d smirk and whisper: ‘Follow me, I wanna tell you something.’”  
  
Chris looked delirious, but his nerves responded to Matt’s every touch. It wasn’t easy to make Chris wound up for second rounds, ever. But Matt felt this was his opportunity.  
  
“You’d follow him because the party really sucks and Dom’s the only one interesting. He’d lead you to the loo, his fingers around your wrist. When you’d arrive there, he’d push you into one of the cubicles, lock the door and smirk at you. It’d be a bit eerie, but you know Dom and it wouldn’t be the first time of you two alone somewhere.”  
  
Matt worked one of his hands up to Chris’ wrists and he lifted both of them above Chris’ head on the bed. It was impossible for Matt’s small hand to grip both wrists, but Chris kept them in one place, letting Matt coax him into submission for the second time that night.  
  
Matt’s lips traced along Chris’ unshaved face. “He’d get close to you and prop himself against the wall behind you. And he’d roll his eyes about how the party is so boring, until he’d throw you a look. That one you see me have every time I’m with you, and suddenly you’d feel those full lips on yours, like you’ve always imagined.”  
  
Chris felt a pair of lips touch his, the picture of the blond in front of his closed eyes, and he gratefully opened his mouth to let a powerful tongue in.  
  
The bassist whimpered as Matt pulled away to continue. “You’d be all flustered because it’s Dom who just kissed you, but he’d smirk once again, showing you his white teeth, before he’d put his hands on your hips and kiss along your neck.”  
  
Matt’s arms fastened around Chris’ waist, and Chris just couldn’t hold anymore, his own hands fast at Matt’s back, pushing their chests flushed close. The clammy feeling of Matt’s body against his was so revolting, yet so arousing, the friction causing goose bumps rise on his skin. Matt worked his way from Chris’ mouth, along his chin down to his throat, kissing it tenderly, as if trying to imitate the drummer’s lips.  
  
“I’ve always wanted to do this,” Matt whispered against Chris saliva-coated skin.  
  
“Yes, _Dom_.”  
  
Matt licked a line from Chris’ Adam’s apple to his shoulder, circling the sensitive spot above the collar bone, and his hands massaged Chris’ hipbones, the younger hissing when Matt touched the newly bruised places.  
  
The muffled, pained sound Chris let out every time Matt roamed around the bruises gave him a sense of power he always wished to have. It was possible with Chris, but the only time he actually had the upper hand was when Chris was exhausted and could do nothing but to submit to him.  
  
He fingered the coloured spots to hear the moan again, and Chris didn’t disappoint as he felt short nails being dragged along his back.  
  
His hands caressed his sides, as if to coax Chris into calmness, but as Chris didn’t suspect, he put pressure on the bruises again. Chris’ hips buckled into Matt’s, creating beautifully filthy friction between them, and the singer was lost in himself and his fantasy, the heat of the moment uncontrollable. He bit into Chris’ shoulder.  
  
Chris felt the sharp pain immediately, and Matt could only react so fast to push himself away, looking straight into Chris terrified hazel eyes. The dim light coming from outside the window rendered them glossy, but he still could see the fear.  
  
He no doubt reflected the same.  
  
“It was just a- just a little prick through the skin. Nothing happened, right?” Matt stumbled over his words holding onto Chris’ shoulders.  
  
Chris didn’t move at all. He was just staring straight back at the singer, breathing unevenly. Matt wanted to believe his words so bad, but he knew his teeth sunk way too deep.  
  
And as he withdrew his hands and straightened himself up, he saw that what his gut feeling was, to his horror, true. The blood was seeping from the tattooed skin, crimson liquid staining the pillow under Chris.  
  
It wasn’t a deep gash that would endanger Chris in any way, but inside both of them knew what this meant.  
  
For ten years they’ve been wary about the smallest thing that could break this agreement they had. Until the greatest of problems arose and there was no way back from it.  
  
Chris threw Matt to the side and sat up at the edge of the bed, his head in his hands, rubbing at his eyes. “So, what happens now?” he sighed. He stroked the sore spot, a few droplets of blood ending up on his fingers. The sight was so surreal.  
  
“I guess you’re mine now.” Matt sat next to him and put an arm around his shoulders, careful as to not invade the wound.  
  
“And there’s nothing-“ Chris started, and Matt finished it for him.  
  
“-we can do about it.”  
  
Matt went to retrieve a few wet tissues from the bathroom and cleaned Chris’ shoulder. Defeated, they both looked at the mark which already formed a shape.  
  
 _MJB_ _  
_


End file.
